Of course you do, Sophie thought.
As if anyone needed any further proof that she wasn’t cut out for this yoga business, Sophie hadn’t rolled up her mat tightly enough and couldn’t snap the buckles around it. The flexible, antibooze grandma had to help her.
Finally she was on her way out of the hellhole, her body begging for a hot bath and her baggiest clothes, when she realized she couldn’t find her keys in her purse. Sophie groaned as she remembered she’d last used them to open the printer toner box this afternoon.
Which meant the keys were likely sitting on her office desk.
So much for the imminent bubble bath.
Sophie trudged back toward the office, praying that the security guard would be around to let her in.
How had her Friday devolved from perfect to crappy?
When she’d left her house that morning, she’d felt great. And looked great. The guy behind her at Starbucks had bought her latte, and she’d had a blind date set up for that evening. Then she’d gotten to the office and received an actual compliment from Gray on the report she’d put together on the potential Blackwell deal.
But within the span of a couple hours, she’d spilled coffee on her dress, her date had canceled on her, and Gray hadn’t spoken to her the rest of the day.
So now she had crotch sweat from yoga, her only date was a fictional duke, and she had to go back to the miserable office, where her boss had likely put another pile of work on her desk. At least she had the wine on hand.
She might suck at everything else, but she was pretty sure she’d make a kick-ass alcoholic if she put her mind to it.
The security guard was none too happy to be pulled away from his paperback, but Ralph was willing enough to let Sophie into the office once she promised home-baked chocolate chip cookies on Monday morning.
If only all men could be managed so easily.
Sophie found her keys buried beneath the expected pile of new work. She was contemplating “accidentally” knocking the files into the recycling bin when she heard the rustle of papers. She glanced toward Gray’s office, startled to see a lamp on, despite it being well after business hours.
And there was Gray.
Apparently she wasn’t the only one whose Friday night had a faint whiff of loser. Except that her boss wasn’t here because he’d forgotten something. In fact, he looked like he’d never left, and was hunched in the same position as when she’d left a few hours ago.
He looked…lonely.
Sophie’s stomach clenched. At least she knew Brynn was cozy at home, drowning her sorrows in ice cream with her girlfriends.
Gray had no one.
She glanced at her watch. It was nearly seven. If she hurried, she could probably make it home in time to see whatever trashy reality show was geared toward single women with no plans on a Friday night.
Gray still hadn’t seen her, so it wasn’t like he’d know that she’d abandoned him to a Friday night even more pathetic than hers. Sophie might be alone, but at least she wasn’t working. She tugged her wine-stuffed yoga bag farther up her shoulder and quietly picked up her keys. Should she say hello? What if he just wanted some peace and quiet?
Or worse, what if he didn’t want to be alone?
Maybe she’d just pop her head in and say hi. He’d probably be horrified to realize she existed outside the hours between nine and five, but she couldn’t just sneak away.
He turned his head slightly to grab another file and her heart lurched as she saw his profile. He didn’t just look lonely. He looked sad.
And if there was anything Sophie couldn’t turn her back on, it was a sad creature. She clenched her fingers around the keys, inexplicably nervous.
“Gray?” she called out, as though she’d just now realized there was someone else in the building. His head snapped around as he spotted her through the glass wall, and she was relieved to see that while he didn’t quite smile at her (that would be a first), neither did he look annoyed at the interruption.
“What are you still doing here?” she asked, moving toward his office and leaning against his doorway. “It’s seven o’clock.”
“Working,” he replied, gesturing to the stack of files and his laptop.
“Have you eaten?” She didn’t know why she asked. She’d only meant to say hello and make sure he wasn’t, you know…like suicidal or something.
But close-up, he looked even more lonely and pathetic than she’d expected.
“Eaten?” he repeated.
“Yes, Gray, food. Normal people consume it to give them energy, joy, maybe a little extra padding around the middle?”
He stared at her, and she had the unsettling feeling that it had been a really long time since someone had cared about whether or not he’d had anything to eat.
She sighed. “I’ll order pizza. You’re not a freaking vegetarian or something, are you?”